T e n d e r  L o v i n g  C a r e
by RaynaRenee
Summary: When my tiny black Mazda Protegé collided with his car, I realized exactly just what I'd done. Actually, the revelation came a few minutes later, when I watched the scene unfold before me.  Gil x Oz ; yaoi. Character death. Rating may change.
1. C O L L I S I O N

_**T** e n d e r **L **o v i n g ** C **a r e_

When my tiny black Mazda Protegé collided with his car, I realized exactly just what I'd done. Actually, the revelation came a few minutes later, when I watched the scene unfold before me – 11:59, one minute 'til morning. The sky was black paint, and the high beams of ambulances were the splotches of neon red and blue in this morbid painting of a car accident. Bodies were carried gently, gingerly from the crumpled mess of a green Dodge Neon vehicle. Three, to be exact. One man, one woman – both pronounced dead – both having the same blonde hair – and one small, tired looking teenager, who wasn't dead at all. In fact, unlike the two bodies dug from their _ultimately once-moving tomb_ – I found later that they were his parents, his only family – he was very much alive. With a last tired glance towards a thin black sheet of glass on the highway (maybe the windshield?), his eyelids drooped over lucid emerald orbs, signaling that he'd fallen into a fitful, fruitless sleep.

"Gilbert Nightray? Ah, yes, room 230. It's the seventh door on the right, Mr. Nightray." Listening to the painfully bright and – in my opinion – far too cheery nurse, I took strides down the clean, sterile hallway towards room 230. I stuck out like a sore thumb; everyone and everything was garbed in white. Feeling apprehensive, I slowly opened the door, being greeted by a steadily blipping heart monitor and _more white_. If you wanted to make someone feel like they'd died, this would be the place to take them. I stepped over to the bedside, seeing a small head of blonde hair poking out from under the hospital's bed covers. This is going to be murder. He'll either hate me or say he doesn't blame me. _Either way, I'll feel like shit._

"...Do you remember anything, Vessalius-san?" The blonde's tired green eyes looked up at me, in politeness and utter respect – it made me sick – and smiled softly, pain clearly visible on his face when he sat up to look me honestly in the eyes. "I remember everything, Nightray-san. My parents – they're gone. And, the car looked a little like a candy wrapper. Yours did too, Nightray-san." I shuddered. _Don't use that sympathetic, respectful tone on me. You're the one that's an orphan. _"I don't mean to be rude, but... have you heard anything about what my condition is, Nightray-san? They won't tell me..." Raising a brow, a few reasons as to why this could possibly be entered my mind: _they don't know_ – certainly that isn't it... _they're waiting for some kind of test results_ – possible, I suppose... _or, his condition's just too critical_ - ...Is he going to die...? "...No, Vessalius-san. I don't know." "Ahh... okay... thank you, anyway. So, um... you aren't hurt, are you?" Me? Hurt? No, I'm actually unscathed... but I'm an emotional, guilty wreck. "I'm not injured... thank you."

"He's suffering from mental trauma and severe injury. The injuries are internal. I'm sorry to say this, Nightray-san, but he won't be alive to be an orphan much longer." Hearing the stern voice of the doctor mutter this under his breath to me, in the same room as the polite young blonde – who had fallen asleep after softly weeping an apology to me – only hit me harder. Why him? Why not me, instead? I'm a sorry excuse for a human being, anyway.  
>"...Is there nothing we can do?" I asked, floundering. My thoughts were a jumble of colors and sounds, and it felt as if I were standing at a great cliffside... with no way to hold this innocent little ray of light back from taking a head first dive over the edge. "Try to make him happy, I suppose." The doctor replied, running a hand through his hair, and with a final glance at the boy, exiting the room. <p>

;_; Jeez. I don't know what got into me, but I just had this idea and I had to write it. Expect more from me on this story~  
>-Rayna<p> 


	2. O V E R B E A R I N G

It became a daily occurence. I would pop into the doorway of the hospital every day, at around two or three o' clock in the afternoon. At first, I felt as if I had to. As if it were some kind of obligation. But after just a few days, the blonde's _infectious_ personality rubbed off on me, in exactly the right way. Soon, we gave up the old formalities and began to call each other by name. I had to admit, this was looking a lot better than it had in the beginning.

On a warm, sunny day in August, I decided to bring something for Oz - _that was his name; Oz Vessalius. It was so beautiful_ – so that he had something sweet to look forward to in his less-than-comfortable hospital bed. Namely, a candy bar. Harmless, yes?  
>"You may <em>not<em> have that," The not-so-cheery nurse huffed when the boy started to open the package, and, for whatever reason, sat it out of his reach. When the nurse left the room, I saw a different sort of side to Oz. One that I absolutely came to adore. _Ripping_ the lead from his chest with an indignant _huff_, he leaned up and _snatched_ the candy from its resting place on the counter, _re_-attached the lead, and settled down to enjoy his chocolate. All I could do was sit and stare. Was this his true personality? Either way, I thouroghly enjoyed it. Laughing, I looked down at him. "Was it really that terrible to not have your candy?" He glared softly at the doorway, mumbling. "My injuries have nothing to do with blood sugar or anything of the sort, so yes. Yes it was." He took an angry chomp out of the chocolate bar with another soft huff.

"What was it like, Oz-kun – being dead?"

Momentarily, Oz Vessalius left the wide world. Just that morning, around 9:30. The teenager hummed, drumming his fingers on the side of his bed. "...Scary." He answered impulsively, frowning to himself. "It really wasn't much different from laying in the middle of a snowy field, miles and miles in width, with white ground under me and white sky above me..." I stared. If that's truly what death is like, it must be- "...Overbearing." He finished my thought – unknowingly, of course – aloud. Exactly. We sat quietly for a while, just staring at the walls. "...They close in on me sometimes, Gil..." Oz murmured, emerald eyes dim. I'd imagine they do. I'd go stir-crazy if I were ever made to lay in here, day in and day out. "Do they?" I mumbled, staring at him, staring at the ceiling. "...Yes. Everyday, when I wake up, I get a little more claustrophobic..." This poor kid. He needs to see sunshine, or he'll go mad.

"Sir, we cannot move him. His injuries are- _sir_!"

Needless to say, I got what we both wanted; instead of room 230, Oz now slept soundly and somewhat happily in room 620. Yellow sunlight shone on a blue sky through transparent white curtains; the window did wonders for Oz's condition and his levels of happiness. Every day became a little brighter, seeing two bright rays of sunshine instead of one bleak bit of light. Oz seemed as happy, as energetic, and excitable as the sun now. Every now and then, a happy little bird would tweet outside the window, and Oz would chirp his happiness, back to me. It was quite a sight to behold. "Gil~ how are _you_ today~?" I was greeted with a little laugh and a beaming smile, and I exchanged his for my own light smile. "I'm alright. How are you, Oz-kun?" He laughed, and his emerald eyes sparkled. And I realized it – _I have feelings for the one I almost killed._


	3. H O M E B O U N D

As his injuries decreased in stability, Oz's happiness only seemed to increase. He said he looked forward to my daily visit, and the nurses reported that he often asked what time it was, so that he could count the hours or minutes until my return. I made sure to be there at the same time every day, so that there was a certain time he could expect me. On this particular day, Oz was just bursting with sunshine. _How could anyone so destined for death be so damned happy all the time?  
><em>"Gil~" His voice rang out with a giggle, and he reached out a hand, grasping and ungrasping it playfully. What am I supposed to do with this? Taking his hand, I sat down next to the bed and smiled back at him. He only blinked, staring at my hand. Was I not supposed to take it? When I released my light grip, he quickly protested softly and only politely asked for it back. Obliging, I decided to start some meek conversation. "So," I mumbled, fidgeting lightly with his pinky finger – which he giggled at – and frowning, "have they told you anything about your condition?" He nodded, beaming.

_"They told me that I'm going home very soon, Gil-kun!"_

My eyes widened. Are they allowed to do that – to lie to a patient like that? I was about to speak the truth when I caught the glance of a nurse standing outside, checking Oz's clipboard on the doorframe. She looked slightly melancholy and only shook her head, moving on to the door next to ours. _They aren't lying. He is going home soon. _I realized this and mumbled a soft congradulationsto him, looking down at our hands. How could I let this happen? Giving his hand a soft squeeze, I looked back up at the boy with a slightly tearful smile. He beamed back at me, emerald eyes shining – oblivious to my guilt, obviously – and squeezed back.

_"You know, you're pretty good-looking."_  
>What a conversation opener. And forward, too. "I, uh... I-I am?" I mumbled, looking at him. He nodded, a mischievious smile coming to his lips. He noticed a change in me. Immediately, it seemed. "Yeah... What's up with your stuttering, Gil~?" The kid's playing games with me! He grinned at me with those sparkling green eyes of his. How odd, I thought. Green eyes and blonde hair. Sort of uncommon. "Huhhh~?" He laughed again, and I laughed, too. Yeah. <em>Uncommon <em>is definitely the word. Every moment, there was a side to Oz Vessalius that was discovered. Whether it was the polite, quiet side or the outgoing, childish side, it was him. And I loved every part of it. "...So, why tell me this?" I asked, trying to remain calm under heavily flushed cheeks. He noticed, as observant as he is. "Whatcha' so red for, Giiill~?" I'm getting about tired of this kid's teasing. **"It's hot in here!"** I yelled, and I could feel my brow twitching. _Annoyance._  
>Finishing his laughing fit, Oz – who was six years my junior, mind you – leaned forward, totally serious but still holding a devious, yet oddly sexy smirk on his lips. "The reason I'm telling you, Gil-kun..." He grinned, looking directly into my eyes. <em>What? What is it? <em>"...is my own little secret~" I paused, looking back at him while he tried to contain his giggles. "...You little shit," I growled, and he fell into fits of laughter. "you're toying with me." He recovered quickly and looked up at me, frowning a bit. "...Nahh..." He grinned softly, eyes genuine. "I'll tell you the reason I said that, if you really want me to." I raised a brow. "Oh, _really_?"  
>He smiled lightly and – <em>I thought I'd never see this<em> – blushed pink, leaning forward and whispering the reason into my ear, earning a few light chills from me. _"It's because I think you are, of course,"_ He whispered, giggling a little.


End file.
